These Calloused Hands Know You
by Emery Saks
Summary: When Peggy Carter is temporarily blinded by an SSR device, she learn news ways to appreciate her caring roommate.
1. Chapter 1

Peggy Carter wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with the latest Agatha Christie novel while her roommate sat nearby poring over her latest script. She and Angie had only been living in Howard's mansion for three weeks, but it already felt like home, and she found herself missing the quiet domesticity of it all.

But instead of a cozy couch, Peggy was currently seated on a dusty, wooden bench situated in the now-defunct City Hall stop of the New York City subway system. Daniel Sousa sat a few feet away from her, absently running his hands along the length of his crutch, while Jack Thompson stood nearby, toying with a long cylindrical object, watching as it rolled back and forth between his fingers.

The three SSR agents had been there for the better of the afternoon, while the rest of their team waited at various locations near the shuttered entrance and down along the service tracks. They'd received a tip earlier that morning that a Hydra operative might try to smuggle weapons into the city via the closed subway station. Their six-hour stakeout had proven fruitless thus far, but the night was young, and they were all aware that criminals tended to favor evening when darkness provided them ample cover for their wrongdoings. So, they waited.

Peggy watched as Thompson once again twirled the lab's latest device – a Z-R0 spectral dampener or Dazzler as they'd taken to calling it – between his fingers, the silver reflecting off the dim light of a single lantern that flickered intermittently from the floor where it sat. When the device precariously teetered across his pinky and was saved only by him quickly reaching out to right it, she finally spoke.

"Oh, do stop fiddling with that, Jack. It's not a toy," she admonished, and indeed it wasn't. When activated, the Dazzler had the unique ability to temporarily blind a target for up to twenty-four hours depending on the setting. It was quite brilliant, actually, but Peggy had no desire to see it in action firsthand.

"That's _Chief_ _Thompson_ to you, Marge," Jack reminded her with a smug. "And don't get your knickers in a twist. The boys in the lab assured me this baby is sturdy. I'm not going to break it."

Peggy rolled her eyes. "Regardless, stop. You wouldn't want that to accidentally discharge and blind one of us."

"Relax, Carter. I didn't serve with Captain America, but I think I know how to handle a lab-issued device."

Peggy just glared at him.

Daniel looked over and gave her a lopsided smile. "So how do you like the new place?" he asked in an obvious attempt to defuse the situation.

Peggy's countenance softened, and she smiled. "It's marvelous, actually, but it's taking a while for me to adjust to living somewhere so spacious," she admitted.

"Anything's got to be an improvement over the matchbox you lived in," Jack snorted.

"I'll have you know the Griffith was a lovely place to live," Peggy informed him in an affronted tone.

"Those rooms were tiny," Jack countered. "I would've gone stir-crazy if I'd had to live there."

Peggy sniffed. "Yes, well, perhaps if I was paid equally, I could've afforded larger accommodations."

Sousa coughed to hide an uncomfortable laugh, but Jack plowed right on, ignoring her pointed comment. "Tiny rooms. No thank you. And don't even get me started on the residents."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Peggy bristled.

Jack shrugged. "You know. Desperate women unable to land a husband." He glanced at Peggy and smirked. "Why else would they be there?"

Peggy stared at him incredulously. "Yes, what reasonable woman would want to pursue a career when they could easily settle down with a man to take care of them?" Peggy scoffed.

"Exactly!"

"Clearly, you didn't spend very much time actually observing the women you met there," she muttered.

"Believe me," he snorted. "I saw enough." He paused a moment and then asked, "Say, whatever happened to that girl there who you were friendly with?"

Peggy's jaw tightened. She knew exactly to whom Jack was referring, but she'd be damned if she'd let him know that. "Pardon?"

"That neighbor of yours. The one we talked to. Amy, Ashley…"

"Angela Martinelli?" Daniel interjected and then frowned when he saw the look Peggy shot at him.

"That's the one," Jack exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Angie Martinelli. That was her name. Italian bird."

Peggy's voice grew even colder. "What about her?"

Daniel looked over at Peggy, instantly picking up on the undercurrent of threat that lay beneath the surface of her words, but Jack continued speaking.

"See, she's a perfect example. Nice enough girl, but absolutely no future ahead of her," he explained. "Didn't that Fry woman say she was trying to become an actress?" he asked, oblivious to the dangerous ground on which he was treading. "From what I saw, that'll never happen."

Sousa piped up again. "As I recall, Jack, she was good enough to get you to talk about your Gam Gam."

"Zip it, Susan," Jack growled, shooting him a dirty look.

Peggy stood and stepped closer to Thompson, arms folded across her chest. "I'll have you know Angela Martinelli is a talented young woman. It's only a matter of time before she gets her big break. "

Jack threw his head back and laughed. "You really need to visit the theatre district more, Carter. From what I saw, I've got more talent in my pinky than she has in her whole body." He stopped and grinned suggestively. "But woo boy, what a body."

Peggy's fingers curled into a fist, and she bit the inside of her cheek in an effort to control her temper. "That's enough, Jack. I won't allow you to speak about her in that way."

"C'mon Carter," he said. "The woman practically threw herself in my arms. Ask Susan. He was there. You don't have to stand up for her. She's not here. It doesn't matter."

Peggy's eyes narrowed. "It matters to me."

But Jack was on a roll and showed no signs of stopping. "I'm telling you, the only way any casting director will ever hire a dame like her is when she gives her best performance on the casting room cou– "

A loud crack echoed across the subway platform as Peggy's right fist solidly connected with Thompson's jaw, and the blond man spun around at the impact before falling backwards, sprawled out on the floor. His hand immediately cupped his jaw as he lay there, moaning.

Peggy turned back to find Daniel gaping at her with wide eyes. She shrugged and shook out her fist, flexing her fingers. "I _did_ warn him to stop speaking ill of Miss Martinelli," she said pointedly.

Daniel must've realized she had a point, because he simply shrugged and nodded. "You did."

"Very well then."

"Jesus, Carter," Thompson groaned from his place on the floor. "What the hell was that for?"

Peggy stepped over to him and leaned down until she could look into her eyes. "I told you. I will not have you speak ill of a young woman whose only crime is she hasn't found the success you seem to think she should."

Jack pulled himself up until he was sitting. "For the love of Christ, I was just–"

"You were just being an arse," Peggy interrupted, "And I won't tolerate it."

Jack glared at her. "I'm still your boss, you know."

Peggy gave him an amused stare. "An unfortunate fact I remind myself of daily," she replied before extending a hand to help him up.

Jack brushed it away and began to rise but suddenly stopped, panic creeping into his eyes. "Oh shit, the Dazzler."

"What?" Peggy asked.

"The Dazzler," he muttered dazedly. "I dropped it when you socked me in the jaw."

Peggy groaned. "Oh, good lord. Let me get a flashlight."

Jack felt around on the ground before him. "No, just give me a second. It's got to be around here somewhere."

Sousa pipes up. "Hold on, Thompson, we don't want to accidentally– "

"Got it!" Thompson crowed triumphantly. A moment later, a blinding light hit Peggy full in the face, and her world instantly went dark.

"Activate it," Sousa finished weakly.

Peggy stumbled as blackness swam in front of her eyes. Her hand found the cool dampness of the subway wall beside her, and she leaned against it. She brought her fingers in front of her face and waggled them back and forth, but saw nothing.

"Bloody hell," she muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

Peggy Carter knew she on the verge of being considered petulant, but after the day she'd had, she truly did not care.

"Mr. Jarvis, I assure you, _I'm fine_."

"I beg to differ, Miss Carter."

"It's just a temporary inconvenience. I will be fine."

"The fact remains I found you asking a fire hydrant for directions," Edwin Jarvis informed her, his voice floating down to where Peggy sat on the couch, and she swore she could hear a smirk in his voice. "That doesn't lend much credence to you being fine, no matter how much you wish to convince me otherwise."

"Oh, do shut up, Mr. Jarvis."

Jarvis chuckled softly. "As I've reminded you before, Miss Carter, you must allow others to help you when you require it."

Peggy groaned. "I despise asking for help."

She heard Jarvis sigh.

"Yes, we are well aware of that. Now, tell me, how long did your scientists say the effects of this condition will last?"

"Another ten hours, most likely," Peggy grumbled. "I suppose I should be thankful Thompson had the dial set at the midway point. I can't envision spending twenty-four hours in this damned eternal darkness."

"That's a touch dramatic, don't you think?"

"No."

"Would you like me to wait and explain the situation to Miss Martinelli?"

"No," Peggy muttered. "I'll do it."

"What time will she return home?"

"What time is it now?"

There was silence for a moment and then Jarvis responded. "It's 7 p.m."

Peggy nodded. "She should be home within the hour."

"Would you like me to stay until she returns?"

His concern was touching, but truth be told, Peggy was tired of the hovering. All she really wanted was to stay on the couch until Angie returned and then spend the remainder of the evening with the young woman by her side. She wasn't quite sure how she was going to explain her current predicament to her friend, especially since she knew Angie worried about her being injured in the line of duty and this particular incident only served to legitimize her concern, but she figured she would come up with something. For now, she simply wanted Mr. Jarvis to leave her be and allow her some solitude.

"Thank you, but no. I'm merely temporarily blinded," Peggy reminded him. "I'm certain I can manage to refrain from accidentally killing myself during the hour until my roommate returns."

"Very well, Miss Carter, if you're sure, but if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, Mr. Jarvis," she responded again, this time with genuine gratitude. "I do appreciate everything you've done. You truly are a good friend."

The silence that greeted her heartfelt statement most likely meant the butler was blushing from the tips of his ears down to his toes, and her hunch was confirmed when her friend squeaked out a flustered, "Of course, Miss Carter. Goodnight, Miss Carter," which was quickly followed by the sound of his coat rustling from the nearby chair.

Peggy leaned back against the couch and listened until Jarvis' footsteps receded from the room and into the front hallway. A moment later, the front door shut with a thud, and Peggy groaned, dropping her head to the back of the couch. She was finally alone. She smoothed her hands up across her face until her fingers threaded through her hair to rub at her scalp, trying to ward off the headache she felt forming at the back of skull.

The entire situation was rather embarrassing and more than a bit annoying, she mused. Leave it to Thompson to manage to gain the upper hand even in his defeat. She shook her head. The man was bloody infuriating.

Reaching down, she fumbled at her shoes, until her fingers eventually found the buckles. She unlatched one, then the other, before kicking the offending items across the floor. Flexing her toes, she moaned in relief as her earlier words to Mr. Jarvis echoed in her head. Angie would be home in an hour. Surely she could manage for at least that long.


	3. Chapter 3

Angie Martinelli was exhausted. A long day at the diner had left her dogs barking, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with her roommate and enjoy a quiet evening at home. She felt she'd earned it, and she hoped Peggy would feel the same way.

Pulling the front door closed behind her and laying her house key in a dish on the hallway table, Angie shrugged off her coat and called out, "Peggy! I'm home!"

She was greeted by the sound of shattering glass echoing down the hallway, quickly followed by a string of several curse words. Angie's coat slipped from her fingers, forgotten, as she raced toward the sound only to discover Peggy Carter standing the middle of the kitchen, the remains of a drinking glass scattered around her.

"Oh my God!"

Peggy glanced up, but her eyes didn't quite meet Angie's as she held up a hand. "Don't come any closer," she warned. "I've managed to shatter a glass."

"I can see that." Angie frowned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Peggy responded tersely.

Angie looked at the mess again and folded her arms across her chest. "Obviously, you're not." When Peggy refused to meet her gaze, Angie grew concerned. "Hey Peggy, look at me. What's wrong?"

Peggy's mouth tightened into a thin line and her shoulders tensed. "I can't."

Angie glanced at her, annoyed. "Don't even start that whole stiff upper lip spy thing with me, English. Not after the day I've had."

"After the day _you've_ had?" Peggy barked. "If we're going to compare days, believe me, I'll win," Peggy said grimly.

Angie scowled. She was in no mood to argue with Peggy, especially since all she'd wanted to do all day was curl up next to the older woman and enjoy her company, but her friend's sour attitude was making it hard to remember why she'd ever wanted to do that in the first place. Taking a step closer, she narrowed her eyes in frustration. "Would you at least have the decency to look at me, Peggy?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Peggy hissed, a look of barely concealed anguish stealing across her features. "I can't look at you, because I _can't see you_."

Surprise flitted across Angie's face, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. "Wait. What?" she asked, certain she'd somehow misheard her.

Peggy eyes slid shut, and she released a heavy sigh. "That idiot Thompson accidentally blinded me with one of our experimental weapons."

Angie's hand flew to her mouth, and she sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh my God, Peggy," she practically wailed.

"No, no, you don't understand," Peggy quickly interjected. "It's only temporary."

Angie felt relief wash over her in waves, as well as a twinge of annoyance thrown in around the edges for good measure. " _Jesus_ , Peggy," she scolded, reaching out to lightly slap the woman on the arm. "Being dramatic is my job! Don't scare me like that."

She gingerly stepped forward, doing her best to avoid the shards of glass decorating the floor around Peggy's stockinged feet and surveyed the scene. She shook her head, a bit impressed. Peggy had really done a number on that glass.

"Okay, English, I'm sure you've figured this out, but don't move," she instructed. "There's glass all around you and, without any shoes, you're bound to cut yourself up something bad."

"So I surmised."

Glancing around the room, Angie tried to determine the best way to remove Peggy from harm's way. She didn't want to leave her standing there while she cleaned up the glass, because Peggy had already swayed precariously once or twice as they talked. Angie figured her balance was probably off-kilter without the use of her eyes. What she needed was a way to carry her, but she was pretty sure trying to cart Peggy Carter off bridal style was not going to work. At least, not if she wanted to live after attempting it.

She paused as a thought occurred to her. While carrying Peggy in her arms wouldn't work, that didn't mean there weren't _other_ ways to carry her. She beamed with satisfaction and stepped closer to Peggy.

"Okay, I have an idea, Pegs" Angie said, rubbing her hands in glee.

"And what might that be?" Peggy's tone was cautious which made Angie grin.

"Well, you're not going to like it," she confessed, "But I think the easiest way to get you to the kitchen table and away from all this glass would be a piggy back ride."

Absolute silence greeted this statement and then Peggy's brows constricted together. "You cannot be serious," she replied in a flat voice.

"And why not?" Angie challenged.

"Because grown women don't give one another piggy back rides," she sniffed. "Besides, I outweigh you."

Angie huffed. "Just because I can't do 107 one-armed pushups doesn't mean I'm a lightweight, Peggy Carter. I'll have you know carrying those trays around day in and day out is a pretty good workout."

Peggy shifted from foot to foot, apparently contemplating the offer. "I don't know, Angie," she hesitated again.

Angie rolled her eyes and released an impatient sigh. "Oh c'mon, Pegs, it's all of five feet, and there's nobody here to see it. Would you just hop on already?" She turned around so her back was facing her roommate.

Peggy groaned. "This is ridiculous," but she nonetheless reached out and gingerly wrapped her arms around Angie's slender neck and moved closer.

"Atta' girl," Angie teased.

"Not helping," Peggy informed her through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," Angie giggled. "Now, on the count of three, jump up, and I'll grab your legs, okay?"

"Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this," Peggy muttered.

"One… two… three!"

Angie felt Peggy's arms instinctively tighten around her neck as the older woman's weight slammed into her and a pair of strong legs wrapped around her waist. Her hands immediately circled beneath Peggy's thighs, and Angie marveled at the solid muscle that now rested in her hands. She lurched forward just a little before regaining her balance. Peggy wasn't as heavy as she expected, but she couldn't resist taunting her friend as she carefully began walking toward the table.

"Geez, Peg, maybe you should cut back on those second helpings at dinner," she teased.

"You do realize my arms are wrapped around your neck," Peggy calmly replied.

Angie didn't miss a beat as she tightened her grip on Peggy's thighs. "And you realize I can poison your food, right?"

Peggy actually chuckled at that.

Taking the final step needed to reach the table, Angie turned so that Peggy's lower back pressed against the wood. "There we go," she crowed. "Safe and sound. You can get down now."

She felt Peggy's grip loosen from around her neck and then the front of Peggy – that glorious front – slowly slid down Angie's back, until Peggy's feet found purchase. Angie bit her lower lip at the sensations the action provoked and tried to calm her racing heart. When she turned around to greet Peggy, she was suddenly very thankful her friend couldn't see the faint blush creeping along her cheeks.

Angie reached out and grasped Peggy's hand. "See, that wasn't so bad now, was it?"

Peggy sighed. "No, it wasn't. Thank you, Angie."

"Sure thing, English." She turned to survey the floor. "Now you just sit tight while I take care of this real quick, okay?"

"Okay," Peggy replied, but the meekness in her voice gave Angie pause. She started to say something, but then thought better of it. If there was one thing Peggy hated, it was unsolicited sympathy. Realizing there was nothing she could do to help her friend, Angie strode to the pantry, retrieved a broom and set about cleaning up the mess.

The kitchen remained quiet, save for the occasional sound of the broom brushing along the floor and the clinking of glass pieces as Angie dumped them into the trashcan. It wasn't until Angie was almost finished that Peggy finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry."

Angie looked up from the floor where she had just retrieved the final piece of debris. "For what?" she asked.

"For this mess. For being a burden."

"Peggy, it's a cup. _Please_. I grew up with my brothers and sister breaking far worse than this. Trust me, this is nothin'," she assured her.

Peggy nodded but didn't say anything, seemingly lost in her own thoughts, and Angie took the opportunity to study her friend who sat there, hands nervously moving in her lap, eyes staring out blankly. Angie couldn't imagine how terrifying and helpless it must feel to not be able to see. Suddenly overcome with the need to comfort her usually stoic friend, Angie lightly padded over and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss against Peggy's forehead.

"It's going to be all right, Peggy," Angie murmured as the British woman twitched in surprise at the unexpected contact. "I promise."

"I know," Peggy sighed. "But I despise feeling helpless."

Angie imagined for someone like Peggy Carter, feeling helpless was probably even worse than being temporarily blinded, but she wasn't going to allow Peggy to think that.

"I don't think anyone would ever use the word helpless to describe you, Pegs," she chided. Reaching down, she gave her friend's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "So, ya' wanna' change into something a little less military there, or are you gonna' be in Agent mode all night?"

That earned a chuckle from Peggy and she tilted her head in Angie's general direction. "These trousers are actually quite comfortable," she assured her.

"Well, why don't you at least let me take you to the study and get you situated on the couch?"

Peggy looked as if she might argue, but when Angie squeezed her shoulder again, she acquiesced and allowed Angie to lead her to the study. Guiding her across the room, Angie brought Peggy to the couch and gently lowered her to the cushion until she was seated. Then, leaning down, she lifted Peggy's legs until they were stretched out in front of her before grabbing a nearby throw pillow and situating it behind Peggy's back. The British woman's eyes slid closed and a sigh escaped her lips as she settled against the cozy fabric.

"Comfortable?" Angie grinned.

Peggy graced her with a genuine smile, one Angie knew very few people ever got to see. "Very much so. Thank you, Angie."

Angie grinned. "Good! Now don't go anywhere," she teased.

Peggy actually snorted. "I hardly think that will be an issue."

Giggling, Angie retreated to the kitchen and set about preparing Peggy's tea. A short time later, she returned to the study, two cups in hand, to find Peggy still where she left her. She smiled and cleared her throat. "I'm back, and I brought tea!"

"Yes, I could smell it steeping," Peggy informed her.

"Well, aren't we just the super spy," Angie teased, setting her cup on the end table before gently reaching for Peggy's hand and guiding it to her teacup. She watched as Peggy's fingers wrapped around the ceramic while her other hand settle beneath the base.

"I made it just the way you like it," Angie told her. "I hope it it's all right."

Peggy slowly brought it up to her lips and took a long sip. A contented groan fell from her lips. "Oh Angie, that is divine. I can't thank you enough."

"What are friends for?" Angie smiled and reached down, gently cupping Peggy's legs in her hands. Her roommate jumped, obviously startled at the unexpected contact and tea sloshed precariously close to the lip of the cup.

"Whoa, English," Angie quickly reassured her. "Just making room for me is all."

"Oh," Peggy began to apologize, "Let me–"

But Angie halted her movements with a firm grip around her calves. "You're fine, English. Geez, stop being so jumpy, will ya'?" She lifted her roommate's her legs and sat down, settling Peggy's legs across her lap once she was situated. "So I gotta' ask, Peg," she said. "Just how did Thompson blind you?"

Peggy's lips narrowed into a thin frown. "It doesn't matter."

"No, it does," Angie pressed. "The guy's kinda' a jerk."

"Yes, he can be," Peggy agreed without hesitation.

"So, what happened?"

Peggy sighed. "We were down in the subway tunnels, waiting on a H-" she paused for a moment before amending, "ah, an operative. As usual, Jack opened his big mouth and started talking about things that he shouldn't. I warned him to stop and when he didn't, I might have possibly punched him. In the jaw."

Angie's eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh my God! You punched him?"

"Yes."

Angie stared at her for a long moment. "That's not usually your style, English. I mean, I know you can pack a mean right hook, but you tend to have more control." Angie's brows furrowed. "Besides, isn't he your boss now?"

Peggy chewed on her lower lip. "Technically yes, but he said some things that were wholly inappropriate, and I'm afraid I simply lost my temper."

"So what'd he say?"

Peggy's jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter."

"Are you gonna' get in trouble?" Angie ventured, concern seeping into her voice.

"No. I think the fact that he temporarily blinded me makes us even."

Angie giggled at that and Peggy, apparently seeing the humor in it, joined in.

"Yeah, that does seem fair," Angie agreed.

"Yes it does, doesn't it?" Peggy replied and took one last drink, draining her cup. She lowered it and reached out a hand, feeling for the nearby end table.

Angie leaned forward and gently placed her fingers over Peggy's hand. "Here, let me help you with that," she offered, taking the cup from Peggy and setting it aside.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Angie assured her.

Peggy shook her head in disagreement. "Yes, I do. I hate being such a burden."

"Peggy, you're not a burden. You're my friend, and friends help each other out." She waited for Peggy to say something more, but the British woman merely sat there, silent. After a few moments, Angie leaned over and nudged her with her shoulder. "Wanna' hear about my crappy day? It might make you feel better."

"Are you trying to distract me from my sulking," Peggy asked, arching an eyebrow.

Angie grinned. "Maybe. Is it working?"

A smile stole across Peggy's lips, and she chuckled. "I would love to hear about your day, darling."

So Angie scooted closer and regaled her with story of the horrible customer who came in toward the end of her shift, loudly complaining about everything from his soda to his fries before sending his hamburger back to be cooked longer, along with the snide comment that perhaps the establishment should hire better cooks and wait staff.

"He did not!" Peggy exclaimed, her jaw clenching in anger.

"He did," Angie giggled. "So that's when Tommy threatened give his food a little extra flavor, if you know what I mean," Angie snickered. "And you know what? I think he was serious, Peg!"

Peggy snorted and began laughing, and Angie joined in, leaning against her, shoulders shaking.

"That's awful," Peggy cried between peals of laughter.

"I know!"

"Oh, Angie," Peggy smiled, shoulders still trembling with mirth, "I needed that."

Angie beamed. "I'm glad to see you smiling, English," she told her, reaching over to tuck a stray curl behind Peggy's ear. She was startled when Peggy suddenly brought her own hand up and gently placed it on Angie's cheeks, fingers slowly trailing along her cheekbone and up over the ridge of her brow.

"Uh, Peggy," Angie squeaked, all trace of laughter suddenly gone from her voice. "What are you doing?"

"Oh my God, Angie. I'm so sorry," she breathed, fingers stilling on Angie's brow. "It's just… I had this overwhelming urge to see what you felt like while laughing." She jerked her hand away and turned her head, staring blindly at the floor. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "It was silly of me." She let out a harsh breath and curled her fingers into a fist. "I feel so helpless right now!"

Angie's face softened. "Peggy, it's not silly. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." She took a deep breath and sighed. "If anything, it was sweet."

Peggy frowned. "No, if anything, it was quite forward of me."

"And I'm telling you, no, it wasn't," Angie reiterated. "You're my best friend. It's fine."

When Peggy didn't answer, Angie reached down and took Peggy's hand, cautiously bringing it back to her face. "Here. See? Feel away," she encouraged.

Peggy's fingers remained still for a few seconds and then, tentatively, began tracing over Angie's cheeks once again, before moving upwards, her thumb ghosting over Angie's brow.

"You have a scar here," Peggy said with surprise. Her fingertip pressed into the faint indentation at the far edge of Angie's right eyebrow. "I never noticed that before."

Angie grinned. "Yeah, my older brother caught me with the edge of a baseball bat."

Peggy grimaced. "Ouch."

"Yeah, but he got the worse end of the deal from Ma when she found out. She bawled him out for a week!"

Peggy chuckled and resumed her explorations, fingers trailing over Angie's other brow, down along her nose, across her cheek before gliding along her jawline until she found her chin.

Angie sat in silence, once again thankful Peggy couldn't see the mixture of adoration and agony splayed across her face as her best friend's warm fingers tenderly stroked her skin and traced the outline of her features. Her heart was beating wildly, and Angie knew if Peggy had been able to see her expression, she'd have instantly deduced how in love she was with the older woman. It was almost torturous feeling Peggy's hand play across her skin in the way it had in so many of her private fantasies, but if this could bring her some peace, Angie knew she would do her best to bear it; however, her resolve was short-lived when Peggy's thumb slowly trailed upward and gently grazed Angie's lower lip.

Gasping in surprise, Angie drew back at the same moment Peggy jerked her hand away, almost as if it were on fire.

"Oh God, Angie," Peggy stammered. "I am so sorry. That was highly inappropriate of me."

Angie drew in a shaky breath. "Ya' gotta' stop apologizing, Peggy or else you're gonna' give me a complex." She reached out and took Peggy's hand, folding it between hers before bringing them to rest in her lap.

Peggy nodded but said nothing. Angie watched her friend for a long moment, trying to decipher what was going on in her head. Realizing she would probably never know, she tugged on Peggy's hand and tried to make her voice brighter.

"I don't know about you, but after all the excitement of today, I'm beat," she said, hoping to dispel some of the awkwardness that had settled between them. "How about you?"

Peggy shrugged. "No more than normal, I suppose."

Angie gave her an exasperated look which she immediately realized was lost on Peggy. Even blind, the woman could be as stubborn as a mule. She'd have to try a different approach.

"Well, I can leave you here on the couch all night, or you can sleep in your room," she said. "What's it gonna' be?"

Peggy sighed. "I'd prefer my own room. In fact, I had grand plans to already be there, but it was only after Mr. Jarvis left, I realized navigating the stairs might present some difficulty."

Angie shuddered at the thought of coming home and finding Peggy lying at the bottom of the stairs, arm or leg broken or perhaps even worse.

"Well thank God you had some common sense," Angie replied. She stood up and helped Peggy to her feet. "So what do ya' say we take ya' upstairs and get into something a little less combat-ready?" she asked cheekily.

"That sounds wonderful, actually," Peggy laughed, and Angie was relieved to realize it was genuine.

"Glad to hear it, English," Angie grinned. "Now, grab my arm and let's see about conquering that staircase!"


	4. Chapter 4

Getting Peggy to her bedroom was a little slower than Angie initially anticipated, but the two finally made it, and Angie deposited Peggy on the bed while she went to Peggy's chest of drawers to retrieve a nightgown for her.

She couldn't help blushing when her hands glided over Peggy's unmentionables as she sorted through the neatly folded clothes, all kinds of ideas raced through her mind. Her fingers skimmed across silk, and she smiled when she realized she'd found the black and red nightgown Peggy so often favored. It just so happened it was Angie's favorite, too.

Picking it up, she walked back to Peggy and grinned.

"Any requests?"

"I'm sure whatever you choose will be fine."

"Well, I know you like this one," Angie told her, making her way back to the bed.

"And which one might that be?"

"The red and black number you always wore at the Griffith," Angie said and laid it down alongside Peggy. "Here, give me your hand," she instructed.

Pulling Peggy gently to her feet, she brought her hands to her blouse and began unbuttoning it, she averted her eyes as the material fell to the sides and revealed more of Peggy than Angie had ever seen or, frankly, been able to imagine, and she'd imagined a lot.

Helping slip the blouse off her shoulders, Angie laid it neatly across the chair situated near Peggy's bed and then turned to unzip her skirt skirt while Peggy fumbled with her stockings. When it became obvious Peggy would get nowhere on that front, Angie took a deep breath to fortify herself and then bent over and batted Peggy's hands away before expertly unsnapping the clips and rolling down the stockings.

Standing back up, she placed her arm beneath Peggy's hand to steady her. "Okay, my eyes are closed so go ahead and lose the skirt, English. I promise not to peek."

"Oh honestly Angie," Peggy chastised, "It's not as if I have anything you don't."

Angie rolled her eyes. "Trust me, Pegs, you've got way more of everything than I have, and that's no bad thing," she quickly interjected when Peggy opened her mouth to say something, "But there's just some things a girl doesn't do and comparing assets when the other one can't see what she's up against just ain't fair."

Peggy threw her head back and chuckled, and Angie felt it was almost worth her own personal embarrassment to see Peggy shake the ennui that'd been hanging over her all evening.

"I don't know where you come up with these things, Angie," Peggy grinned.

Letting out a shaky laugh, Angie nodded her head and mumbled, "Yeah, I'm a regular Groucho Marx. Meanwhile, you're on your own with your brassiere." Angie was pretty sure that after everything else that had happened tonight, that one just might push her over the edge.

"Yes, I rather imagine that might become a bit awkward," Peggy smiled weakly with what Angie thought might just be a touch of relief.

"Just tryin' to be respectful," Angie replied, once again grateful Peggy couldn't see what she knew was obvious desire written all over her face.

"All right. I'm ready for my nightgown," Peggy said a moment later, and Angie reached back with the nightgown in hand until she felt Peggy's fingers brush against her own.

Angie prayed Peggy could manage this task on her own, because she knew if she had turn around and see Peggy in nothing but her knickers, she would die on the spot.

Fortunately, when Peggy moved into her line of sight, she was clad in her marvelous gown, and even then, Angie briefly wondered if she might die on the spot. She needed to get out of Peggy's room while she still maintained her sanity.

"Well, it looks like you're all good here, so I'll just get you tucked in and call it a night," Angie stated with a forced smile and turned to go, but Peggy's subdued voice stopped in her tracks.

"Actually, Angie, I was hoping you might… ah… that is… would it be too much of an imposition if you were to stay here tonight… with me?"

Angie's eyes slid shut, and she knew then that she was being punished. She thought it might be for giving that jerk of a customer day-old coffee. She shook her head, no, that couldn't be it. God Himself would've done the same thing. Nope. This odd sexual penance was most definitely for all the thoughts she'd been harboring about Peggy for the last several months. She snorted. Who said God didn't have a sense of humor?

She realized she must've taken too long to respond or else Peggy heard her less-than ladylike snort, because all of a sudden she was apologizing.

"It's just that it's dark, and usually that doesn't bother me, but I've never been faced with a blackness like this before, and it's a bit unnerving, and oh, I'm sorry, Angie. I shouldn't have put you in such an awkward position."

Angie felt guilt lance through her. Here Peggy was blind, scared, and she was fretting that she couldn't keep her hands off her? Some friend she was. Placing a hand on Peggy's arm, she gave it a gentle squeeze and spoke.

"What'd I tell ya' about apologizing, English?"

Peggy became silent again.

Angie closed her eyes and steeled her resolve. "Stay in here with you tonight, huh? Sure. I can do that. Lemme just go change. I'll be right back."

Without giving herself time to think about what she had agreed to, Angie marched to her bedroom, stripped off her clothes and threw on her favorite blue nightgown. In less than five minutes, she was back in Peggy's room, snuggled under the covers beside her best friend.

Keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling, Angie silently told herself she could do this. She could sleep next to Peggy Carter and keep her hands to herself. She was adult. She was barely breathing, but she was an adult.

She almost jumped out of the bed when she felt Peggy's hand wrap around her own.

"Thank you, Angie."

"'Course, Pegs," she managed to say without stammering.

They were silent for a few moments before Peggy finally ventured, "Which nightgown are you wearing?"

Angie shrugged. "Just my usual one."

Peggy nodded knowingly. "Ah, yes, the blue one. That's always been my favorite," she said casually and then stiffened, as if realizing what she'd just said aloud.

"What?" Angie breathed and turned her head to stare at her with incredulous eyes.

Since when did Peggy have a favorite regarding her nightgowns? To be fair, Angie had been head over heels for that red and black number Peggy wore, and she'd always gotten a secret thrill whenever her friend answered her door in it back at the Griffith, but the idea that Peggy preferred Angie in certain outfits over others rattled her. She forced herself to quell the hope that surged inside her at what that might mean, but Peggy still hadn't said anything, and Angie decided it might be best to take the long way around on this one.

"I've always liked the one you're wearing," she finally offered.

"Ah, so that's why you chose it," Peggy teased, a lighter note in her voice than Angie had heard all night. It made her happy.

"Hey, beggars can't be choosers," Angie fired back, giving Peggy's hand a squeeze.

Peggy chuckled and rolled onto her side, her breasts inadvertently brushing against Angie's as she did so. Both women gasped and Peggy tried to jerk back, but Angie tightened her grasp on their joined hands and immediately slipped an arm around Peggy's waist, effectively trapping her there.

Angie could read the confusion and panic on Peggy's face as clearly as if they were words on a page and when Peggy spoke, her voice was a good octave higher. "Angie, what are you doing?"

Eyes roaming over Peggy's feature, Angie untangled their fingers and brought a hand up to tenderly cup Peggy's flushed cheek. She felt Peggy swallow and smiled. It appeared her friend was just as nervous as she was, but she hadn't pushed her away or recoiled in disgust. That had to be a good sign, right?

Bringing her face closer, Angie licked her lips and sighed, "You gotta' forgive me if I've read this wrong, English, but I've been watching you all night, and unless I'm mistaken, I think we're both finally on the same page."

Peggy blinked furiously, eyes gazing into nothingness, while her hands gripped the sheets beneath her fingers. "Same page? Angie, I'm not quite sure I follow."

"I'm happy to explain," Angie breathed and pressed her lips to Peggy's.

When Peggy's mouth opened beneath Angie's, it became readily apparent to her that Peggy didn't need much of an explanation, after all. Angie moaned encouragingly when Peggy's hand traveled down her collarbone and slipped lower tracing the bare skin above the neckline of her gown, and when the same hand moved even lower, she bit down on Peggy's lip and pressed her hips into Peggy's right about the same time Peggy discovered the soft swell of her breast through the thin fabric. When questing fingers brushed across the sensitive peak, Angie's head fell back and she groaned Peggy's name. Lips traveled down her neck and then teeth sank into the soft skin, and Angie was well and truly gone.

If Peggy could make her feel this way when she couldn't even see what she was doing, Angie vaguely wondered what this would be like with her vision restored, but that thought was lost when Peggy's hand grasped the hem of her nightgown and pushed it up, fingers tracing along Angie's bare thigh, moving closer to where Angie needed them most. She whimpered and clutched at Peggy's shoulders… and then suddenly they were gone.

Angie forced her eyes open and found Peggy staring past her, desire and anguish etched across her lovely face.

"Angie, I'm so sorry," she whispered, "But, I can't. This isn't how-"

Angie's stomach dropped. "Oh God, Peggy, please don't tell me you don't feel-"

"No, no darling, of course not," Peggy assured her. She bit her lower lip. "It's just…"

"What?" Angie whispered, heart in her throat.

"I want to see you," Peggy finally said.

"See me?"

"Yes. I want to look into your eyes and see you the first time we make love, darling. I want you to see how much I care. I want to watch your body writhe in pleasure."

A warm heat spread throughout Angie's body and she was sorely tempted to forgo Peggy's wishes, hike up the woman's gown and sink her fingers into her until Peggy was screaming her name. How could one woman be so perfect?

Yet Angie also understood what Peggy was saying, and as much as she wanted to hear Peggy calling out her name, she wanted to see Peggy's eyes trained on her until they slid shut in pleasure. They had time. Angie had waited this long. She could wait a little longer.

Taking a shuddering breath, Angie regretfully put some distance between them. "I understand, Peggy, but I gotta' warn ya'. Keep talking like that, and I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Peggy laughed and leaned back, drawing Angie's head to her shoulder. "Fair enough, darling."

Angie followed willingly and draped an arm across Peggy's stomach. _Tomorrow,_ , she told herself. She pressed her lips to Peggy's neck. "I'll see you in the morning, English."

Peggy's lips pressed to the top of Angie's head and Angie swore she could feel her smile. "In the morning."


End file.
